


Destination Unknown

by Sing



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, F/M, I honestly don't know where this is going yet, Mess, Romance, Slow Burn, friendships, unconventional pairing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5042377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sing/pseuds/Sing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abbie's work is always pulling her away from the gang, forcing some new bonds to form.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ...so....let's see what happens once I get this going.

It's good to be back, the three of them. Well, four, she supposes. Jenny watches Abbie, Crane and Joe as they joke around at their table. Joe glancing her way on occasion and she nods to show she sees them, yes, she's assured they're still enjoying themselves without her there to regale them with her wry humour and wild temper. She bangs the counter because an order of wings shouldn't take this long. "Hey, you killing the chicken back there or what?" she bellows. Mabie emerges from the back, shaking her head. 

"New cook," she explains.

"New cook or can't cook?" Jenny cocks her hip and folds her arms. 

Mabie winces and shrugs. "Tonight it's the same thing. Doing a friend a favour for her son," 

"That favour is gonna get this place shut down," she teases wickedly and Mabie sucks her teeth. 

"Drinks on the house for the inconvenience, Jennifer," 

" Appreciate it" she grins and saunters back to the table to announce their sudden good fortune but frowns at Abbie who is on the phone, brow furrowed. Joe, who's staring off into the distance, and Ichabod, always polite, cordial, attentive Ichabod regarding her with interest. She can understand why women titter around him. All blue eyes and shiny hair. The height helps. His gaze always carries a weight with it, a certain devoted level of focus. 

"You are without wings Miss Jenny," he states.

Always did love me a man who can state the obvious, she thinks before smirking at him. "For that reason, Mabie says drinks on the house, what'll you have?"

In classic Crane fashion, his gaze flickers to her sister. He always deflects to Abbie, but his chief advisor on how to enjoy tonight best is still on the phone, cradling it between her ear and shoulder and shrugging on her coat. He instantly begins to frown and Jenny does too. 

That damn coat carries with it a set of burdens that are more irksome than Crane's colonial garb. Crane's coat, worn, beloved, time worn---literally---means honour and memories and a life he's lead. 

Abbie's coat, or jacket, or blazer, because she's never without one these days--means work. Plain and simple. It means Abbie running off without them, which is becoming increasingly and alarmingly more frequent Jenny doesn't care to admit, and spending late hours and early mornings taking down drug rings and investigating high profile murders and----it's important work, she doesn't deny that, but it hurts. 

She knows Abbie doesn't mean to. But this job is becoming her all over again, and it's taking her away from them, her, Crane, Joe---but mostly Crane. Who finds himself in the strange role of waiting up for his wayward partner at the house they share and fallen asleep on the couch and Abbie sneaking in quietly, trying not to wake him. 

Jenny knows this because she'd stayed over the last time this happened, just last week. Her and Joe. They'd all been having dinner at the house and off goes that damn phone and Abbie was out the door like a shot. "Be back as soon as I can," she'd hollered before slamming out the door.Car backed out and pulled out the driveway before Crane could offer to tag along, standing on the porch, crestfallen. 

Brokenhearted watching the spectacle her and Joe stayed, finished dinner, helped tidy up, distracted him as much as they could from worrying before sleep claimed them, and woke only to the sound of Abbie stealthily putting her key in the lock and looking decidedly guilty that she'd been caught coming back in. 

"I can't help it, it's the job,"

Jenny would call bull shit if she had a right to, she'd accuse Daniel Reynolds of trying to monopolize Abbie's time but Daniel's busier delegating his agents and directing missions----he couldn't seduce Abbie on the sly if he wanted to. Abbie's actually out because she works hard, all the time, and she can't help it, that drive is in her sisters blood. 

But it doesn't make it easier to bite back her annoyed groan as she watches Abbie suit up to leave now. "Oh come on aren't you guys allowed to be sick?" she asks, regretting it the instant it comes out her mouth, knowing how ridiculous she sounds, but Abbie just shakes her head, amused, and understanding of Jenny's irritation before she gives them all a nod and leaves. Ichabod stood to see her off, but Abbie's back was already turned and striding out the door, oblivious to Crane's overbearing politeness and show of respect. He stands there a moment, mouth slightly parted suspended as if by puppet strings before defeatedly letting his long limbs fold in on himself and back into the chair. A beat passes before Jenny rolls her shoulders. 

"Well, I call dibs on Abbie's drink. Pick a drink Crane,"

He pauses, perhaps about to announce he no longer feels like 'revelry on this fair night' or whatever other particular brand of waxed poetic he subscribes to but Jenny shakes her head and beats him to it. "You know what, never mind, I'll surprise you," she glances at Joe. "And you, you up for a surprise too? 

He nods the affirmative. As Jenny saunters back to the counter Mabie waits to take her drink order and at last the wings are ready. 

"What'll you have?"

"Anything that will make that man over there," she nods toward all six foot God only knows how much of Ichabod Crane, "Sing a raunchy shanty song,"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> missed last weeks episode so as I move on with this, not sure how much of it will be canon. 
> 
> leave your thoughts please!

Jenny sorely regrets ordering that crazy concoction for Crane. Or at the least she suspects she will once she gets him back to the house to find that he's severely sick and needs tending. But for now? She cannot stop laughing at the spectacle of Crane bellowing on and on about the joys beneath a fair maids skirt, the dumb, blissful look on his face, the swaying limbs, and Joe too, is beside himself chuckling along. Most patrons have gotten used to Crane. As used as they could get to the polite and time warped wardrobe of the man they could be. Seeing him let loose with such abandon is proving to be nothing short of a treat for all parties involved. Everyone claps and cheers and laughs along with him singing this absolutely ribald, bawdy song that he wouldn't be caught dead uttering sober. 

But drunk will do the trick. 

Drunk always does the trick. 

In the morning Jenny will be glad she had the foresight to record it on her phone. She'll send the vid to Abbie. Her sister will admonish her for 'violating Crane's rights' or what have you, but she knows in the end Abbie's lips will curl in that private secret smiling way she has. Like Abbie can hardly bear to allow herself the luxury of a face splitting smile. 

"Crane!" she hollers at last when he staggers mid verse after another grandiose gesture. "Come down from there ye old panty dropper, come on!" she crows. He blinks rapidly in her direction, screwing up his face and eyes crossing in what is a sorry attempt to stabilize and effect something like being offended. 

"Miss, Jenny," he hiccups, finger in the air about to correct her she's sure, the man can't help but be contrary. She's watched his exchanges with her sister often enough and he usually only stood down when bestowed with a pointed no nonsense glare. Usually from Abbie. She tries her best to muster one now, and Crane is kind enough to inform her what a poor imitation it is. With a smug look on his face that she'd direly like to wipe off. 

"Look, there's a reason why God broke the mould after making us. World couldn't have two Abbie's and it sure as hell couldn't survive two Jennifer Mills," 

Crane digests this answer for all of second before bobbing his head in agreement. "The absolute bedlam two Jenny's could cause, I shudder to think it," 

"Time to shudder your ass out the door so we can stagger you home," 

Joe rises then, coming out of whatever drunken haze he'd momentarily sunken down into and gives her a nod. "Home again home again jiggidy jig?"

Jenny quirks a brow at him, a smile tugging at her mouth. "Jiggidy Jig."  
*  
Crane is a ton of bricks. A leaning tower of bricks that she barely manages to keep upright coming through the front door before Joe abandons her entirely to go vomit in the bushes. She grimaces. Abbie won't like that come morning, but there's little to be done. She finishes heaving Crane to the living room, laying him out on the couch and Joe finally joins them, looking positively green.

Guess I'm the stronger drinker of the two. She muses as she approaches Joe. "Hey," she calls softly. "You feeling alright? need some water?"

"Thanks Jenny,"

She nods, checks Crane, groaning about thundering canon fire and fetches the water for Joe. "You crashing tonight?"

He shakes his head. "That arm chair is not a good time and the floor even worse,"

"You could take Abbie's bed," she suggests, knowing full well he'd never take the offer. "Or Cranes, because I'm not lugging him in there," But Joe refuses. 

"I think I'll taxi home. You stay with Crane, keep an eye on him till Abbie gets home."

"Are you sure?"

"You ever feel like you just want the comfort of your own bed? that's what I need right now, nothing else will do, I'm good Jenny," he smiles and already he's stumbling back out the door, phone in hand. She glances over her shoulder at Crane who seems to have drifted to sleep and waits on the porch with Joe for the taxi in silence. 

Their conversations are not easy cool calm things. Push and pull and raised voices, but there's friendship there, and in some ways, the silence says enough about their friendship. Not needing to say too much means there's nothing wrong or pressing to discuss. When the lights appear she claps him on the shoulder and checks one last time. 

"Stop worrying about me Jenny, I'm not a little kid," he jokes but she would almost believe he's a bit sore about it, and quickly packs himself off into the car. 

Left on the stop in the cold October night she calls Abbie, hopeful. "Not now," is all she gets as an answers in a hushed tight voice. "I'm going in after a hostage situation not now," and the phone clicks, She's doesn't even have time to ask where she is, to beg her to stay safe. It smarts. Ticking her gaze back over to slumbering Crane Jenny sighs and throws herself in the nearest chair, leans her head back and let's her eyes drift closed.  
*  
Her eyes wink open and she finds herself staring directly into a pair of blue ones. 

"Jesus" she yelps and Crane reels backward from her. "Damnit Crane," she grumbles, rubbing her eyes and casting her eyes around looking for a clock. 

"1 am." he offers helpfully in his british drawl, made deeper from leftover sleep. 

"Only?"

"We began our evening quite early. Miss Mills called and said she'll be headed home shortly, she has paperwork to finish up. Her mission tonight was a success." he murmurs, eyes crinkling a little bit in pride of Abbie. Oh this sap, Jenny thinks with a smile edging across her face. 

"Well, breathing room, please, I've gotta use the facilities," 

"Of course. Are you hungry?"

"At this hour?"

Crane's expression turns sheepish. "I myself am a bit peckish. I was going to make some toast, but you grumbled in your sleep and I was concerned." 

"Yeah, sure toast, whatever," she replies, sauntering down the hall. As she's washing her hands she catches her reflection in the mirror. The long curling dark hair, and she entertains the notion, ever so briefly, of cutting her hair. It brought change for Abbie and Crane himself seems a bit lighter for it. 

But. Jenny is not the sort to cut ties with burdens. She's not an escape artist from herself the way other people might be. Her hair too carries with it a weight, memories of her fingers gliding idly through it while she sat alone in the TarryTown ward. When a foster parent had dragged her to a room by the ends of it when she'd back talked. When Hawley's hands had twined in it during kisses.

These bitter things give Jenny her edge. She abruptly dismisses the idea of lopping it off. No, these trials and loads are hers and she gladly shoulders them. They remind her of what she left behind the times she had to dig deep for her strength and perseverance. And for all of the rough patches she's been through, isn't her hair still resiliently glossy and health, bouncing and teaming with curls, it had retained its lustrous beauty through her hardship. 

It reminds Jenny she's beautiful, AND strong. 

"Miss Jenny?" Crane's holler interrupts her contemplation and she shuts the light off and joins him in the kitchen where he of course has a mug of tea waiting. 

"Thanks Crane," she smiles as she settles in, and he gives one of those annoying but adorable little bows before seating himself opposite. There is silence between them as they munch and drink. 

This silence is different from hers with Joe, namely because Crane is almost never satisfied with puzzles unsolved and thoughts untold. The air hums with the anticipation of what probing thing Crane's about to shatter the quiet with. 

He's sneaky, Ichabod Crane, she thinks as she meets his gaze over the rip of her cup. He lies in wait like a predator until he can lay a trap and ask something weighing on his mind. And it's usually just damned curiosity but more often than not his curiosity is often of a rather personal or intimate nature. It's a little nerve wracking not knowing what direction he's going to come at you from next. Another moments passes before he clears his throat, leans forward on the table and temples his fingers. 

Here we go. She rolls her eyes. 

"Miss Jenny,"

"Mr. Crane"

Crane gives her one of his admonishing smirks, a strangely charming expression, as if he's trying to scold you but he knows he's also highly amused if not charmed by your stubbornness in the same breath. It might be one of her favourite expressions on him. 

"I…..I wonder, how are you?"

Well damn, see? unpredictable Crane. She's expected him to be far more specific. But she's also still a little surprised he isn't asking her a question directly linked to Abbie in some fashion, as is his wont. 

"How do you mean?" she drains her cup and leans back in her chair. 

"I know for myself, I feel the absence of your sister rather keenly. I wonder if you feel your own relationship has suffered. But also, how are you….in general. Your endeavours of late seem to take you away from us, and while I am not fond, there is a certain charm to when you and your sister bicker. The archives are….lonely, without you in them."

Jenny's always been good at hiding her inner feelings and it serves her well now that she doesn't smile back too much at Crane suggesting, in his bashful roundabout way that he misses her. Three years in and this man knows how to pledge allegiance to her sister in nothing less than pure eloquence and yet he still fumbles so greatly in rapport with others. 

"I miss you too Crane," she answers, throwing him a bone, and he smiles at her, eyes all kind and genuine. He's a good man, wonder how long it'll take Abbie to notice it, she thinks, blinking and looking away. "I miss Abbie, I miss all of us being on this mission together, but….Joe….." now is probably not the time to mention all this shard business because she's not even sure of where it's going to lead yet herself, if she's being honest. "Abbie….." yeah, that's a dead end too, because she knows Abbie well enough to figure there's something on her end that she's keeping from her too. 

Chances are he knows. She thinks a little maliciously. Crane always knows everything. Like a damn oracle. But that oracle is being extra sweet to her right now, so she's not going to bog them down with bitterness. 

"Sometimes paths diverge," she settles on at last as explanation. "I hear you're going to become an American at last,"

"Indeed," he grins pridefully. 

"We'll be glad to have you," she reaches across the table to pat his hand and is surprised with the speed at which he turns his own hand over and grips hers. Praise the Lord for her steely resolve and stony expressions that doesn't give away that she's shocked. 

He squeezes her hands gently in his, his thumb idly sweeps across the back of it. Her eyes lock with his and she hopes the expression asks him not so subtly, what the hell are you doing? 

"Thank you for staying with me this eve, Miss Jenny." he says, voice soft, and she heaves a sigh of relief. Typical Crane making a scene about his gratefulness. He does nothing without flare, the thought makes her mouth quirk. 

"Anytime Crane,"

"And….I want you to know that if anything troubles you, you may bring your concerns to me. I am here for you as well, Miss Jenny. Fate may not have entwined us, but our lives still are tied. Do remember that," 

"Thank you, Crane," she whispers, squeezing back and the moment is tender and odd. She doesn't often have moments to bond with Crane, it's kinda nice if not weird. She's just beginning to pull her hand away when the door opens and in seconds Abbie is upon them, drowsy gaze snapped open to their clasped hands. 

"Am I interrupting?" she asks, a hint of amusement in her eyes. 

Jenny wants to drop Crane as if he's scalded her but he merely calmly meets her sisters eyes. "I was just telling Miss Jenny that I value her presence and have missed it from our missions as I have…missed you from our 'nights out'. I do hope the time will come when we will not exist in a constant cycle of exchanging one for another." and at last he lets her go and Jenny brushes her palm unconsciously on her pant leg. She walks over to Abbie, kneels a little and makes a deliberate show of fussing over her. 

"I'm intact," Abbie jokes. 

Jenny winks at her sister. "Just making sure. You owe me," she warns as she saunters out the front door. 

"Jenny it's nearly two in the morning," Abbie protests. Jenny looks over her shoulder with a wild gleam in her eye. 

"You and I both know there are greater things to fear in this world than the dark." 

"Be safe,"

"Always,"

"Good night Miss Jenny," she waves back at him and he bobs his head again and she laughs a little. 

"Good night Crane,"


End file.
